


Lightfly 1501

by wheel_pen



Series: Immortals [1]
Category: Firefly
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3455555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the start of a new cycle, and the nomadic sailing Lightfly clan relishes its freedom on the sea, even if the new rules for mortal interaction are an imposition. But then they get unwelcome news—they’ve been assigned to host the new Oracle and her brother, which means obligations and attention from their enemies. This story is unfinished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightfly 1501

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The Immortals are powerful Earth beings who have children with mortals and are supposed to take care of them. The different clans are inspired by various movies and TV shows.  
> 2\. The bad words are censored; that’s just how I do things.  
> 3\. I own nothing, and I appreciate the chance to play in these universes.

_Future Gulf of California, January 1 st, 1501 CE_

            Mal stood on the deck of the ship, looking out on the crystal blue waters they sailed through, feeling the cool breeze and the light salt spray on his face, the gentle rocking of the boat beneath his feet. He didn’t even realize he’d closed his eyes until he snapped them back open to see who had come up to his side.

            Inara smiled and slipped her arm through his. “With all our years of sailing, this never gets old, does it?” she commented, staring out in the same direction. “Maybe it’s because the sea and the sky are always changing.”

            “Should we stay here a mite longer,” Mal asked her speculatively, “or maybe head west a while? Visit the islands again.”

            “Ooh, it’s almost time for the Coconut Festival on Besos!” Jayne reminded them excitedly, popping up behind the couple. “I do love me some coconut dancers!” He mimicked the hip-swaying dance popular on said island.

            “I know you do,” Mal agreed, leaning over the rail to look down at him. “But the new cycle’s begun, don’t forget. You run around like you usually do, half the island will be crawling with little Jaynes by the end of the year.”

            This didn’t seem to be a deterrent to the other man. “So?” he asked quizzically. “My blood would do ‘em good.”

            “You know the new rules, Jayne,” Zoe put in from the side. “Informed consent and full support.”

            The burly man rolled his eyes at that. “Since when do ya gotta point out to an island woman that playin’ hide the coconut might get her knocked up?” he asked in exasperation. “They all _know_ that! That’s why they all wanna get it on with the Great Mustache God!” He smoothed his facial hair down proudly.

            “We’re not gods,” Inara reminded him sharply, adding a bitter, “anymore” under her breath.

            Mal smirked a little at that but said nothing about it. “Anyway, the islands are a bit far for regular travel, ‘less we’re wantin’ to do a circuit every year,” he pointed out. “Spend all our time checkin’ on stray kids, makin’ sure they’re full up on bananas and taro.”

            “There are worse things to do with one’s time,” Shepherd Book said mildly, stepping out from the ship’s interior. “The warlike tribes could use some encouragement toward peace as well.”

            Now Mal was starting to get a little peeved. Inara saw it easily and wished she could warn the others to back off, but it was too late. “Don’t nobody start makin’ plans for where this boat’s goin’ without me!” he snapped, leaning on the railing and glaring down at them. “We’re not getting’ trapped in some schedule of bein’ here and there by certain times!” He straightened up, trying to sound more reasonable. “We’ll set up a couple colonies somewhere, along the coast like usual, visit them, and that’s it for the regular stops. No need to do anything different than we always done.”

            The others shrugged and turned away, going back to their tasks quietly. They were all smart enough to know when they’d hit one of the Captain’s nerves, and no one wanted to challenge him on this point. He didn’t really like rules too much, at least those imposed on him by others—and he had taken the new cycle rules rather personally, as though they were a critique of his family in particular. Which they weren’t, of course. Lightfly had always done things fair and square.

            More or less.

            Inara waited until he had relaxed and turned back to look at the ocean again, then she put her hand on his. He took a deep breath of the salt air. “You know what that smell is?” he asked rhetorically.

            She wrinkled her nose delicately. “Dead seagulls?”

            “Freedom,” he corrected, giving her a look for ruining his noble moment. “Freedom to go wherever we want, whenever we want.”

            “Maybe we could go to Milan,” she suggested, seeing an opportunity. “There’s some very exciting fashion trends—“

            “Fashion trends?” Mal scoffed. He would have scoffed more, but Kaylee called to him from the lower deck.

            “Cap’n! Wash says there’s a message comin’ in for you!”

            Mal rolled his eyes again and began to climb down. “Freedom, except for runnin’ off to look in a bowl of water all the time,” he muttered. “Ain’t you supposed to be at the wheel?” he said gruffly to his pilot as he ducked into the dim cabin just below the helm.

            “No,” Wash replied, as though it were a ridiculous notion. Then his eyes widened comically. “Oh my G-d, who’s steering this thing?!” he exclaimed in mock horror. “Oh wait, me,” he added dryly.

            Mal waited until he was done with his bit. “The message?” he prompted.

            “Darkwater,” Wash revealed cryptically, scooting away from the bowl of water on a desk. “I’ll just go steer the ship,” he said jauntily, leaving Mal alone in the room.

            The Captain sat down at the desk and squinted into the deep red bowl, ripples marring the water’s surface as he tapped it with his finger. “Darkwater!” he said loudly at the water. “Are you there? Can you hear me?”

            A face resolved on the surface of the water. “ _Of course I can hear you_ ,” the man replied with slight irritation. He was dark-haired and his expensive attire contrasted with Mal’s worn and rumpled outfit. “ _No need to shout. And stop moving the bowl_.”

            Mal rolled his eyes but stilled his hands. He really hated this method of communication. Actually he hated going through nymphs as well, and those were the only options for real-time communication, so maybe what he _really_ hated was just being contacted. “So, Jack,” he began, with an effort at politeness, “how’s the Silk Road?”

            The other man shrugged. “ _Winding down a bit_ ,” he admitted. “ _I’m thinking of moving to the southern coast of China. That’s where the action is going to be_.”

            Mal didn’t care at all. “Huh. You’d have to learn to speak Chinese,” he pointed out obtusely. “It’s really _hard_ , isn’t it?”

            “ _I’ll manage_ ,” Jack assured him dryly. He straightened up a little in preparation for his point. “ _I have some exciting news for you_.”

            “I don’t usually associate that tone with exciting news,” Mal pointed out suspiciously.

            Clearly Jack was not terribly pleased about it, either. “ _Oh, it_ is _exciting_ ,” he insisted. He made a dramatic pause. “ _Your family’s been chosen to take on the new Oracle_.”

            Mal blinked at him. Then he stared. His mouth opened a little. Finally he said, in a strangled tone, “What?”

            Jack smirked just the tiniest bit. “ _The elders have decided, in their wisdom, that Lightfly should be the home of the new Oracle_.”

            “No,” Mal said, once his brain started working again.

            Jack shrugged. “ _Already been decided_.”

            “I don’t want it,” Mal said firmly. His stare could boil the water.

            “ _I know you don’t_ ,” Jack agreed with a sigh. “ _I think that’s why they chose you_.”

            “Pick someone else.”

            “ _Plenty of families wanted it_ ,” Jack went on, as though Mal hadn’t spoken. “ _Nightbird, Bonebright, Starkmoon…_ I _would’ve taken it, gladly._ ”

            At this, Mal frowned. “She’s your sister,” he pointed out.

            “ _I_ know _. So I was never considered to begin with_ ,” Jack clarified. “ _I’m just saying she would have been useful._ ”

            Mal shook his head, his jaw tense with anger. “Tell them to pick someone else,” he repeated. “She’ll be nothing but a millstone around our necks, attracting every strand of bad energy, and—“ His eyes widened in horror as he thought of something else. “I’m not gallivantin’ all over creation, keepin’ appointments with the rich nabobs who wanna hear some prophetic gibberish!” he warned.

            Jack’s look said that was _exactly_ what he was expected to do. “ _It’s a new thing. The Oracle travels instead of the people_ ,” he explained, knowing it wouldn’t appease Mal at all. “ _And you’ve got a large family, so that should increase your strength against… whatever_.”

            “I. Ain’t. Doin’ it,” Mal tried, one last time.

            “ _It’s always a pleasure talking to you, Mal_ ,” Jack replied dryly. “ _You can pick her up in Mingzhou, the eastern Chinese port. I’ll send you the coordinates._ ” With that his image rippled and disappeared, leaving Mal to swear and knock the bowl angrily to the floor. Outside the door, a nymph squealed in excitement as she received directions to a new city and passed them on to Wash.

            Mal spent the trip to Mingzhou pleading with every elder who would talk to him, but to no avail. In fact, some of them seemed to feel that Mal’s reluctance on this issue was a major factor in his favor, as Jack had guessed. And trying the reverse psychology trick didn’t work, either, because Mal was a terrible liar about things like this.

            So one could imagine that when his ship finally docked in China—a voyage he had lengthened as much as possible—his mood wasn’t all that great.

            “At least we’ll be able to go shopping,” Ursuline said brightly, massaging Jayne’s shoulders as they looked out over the bustling docks.

            “They should have silk, don’t you think?” Olga asked, feeding Jayne another grape.

            Jayne did love nymphs. But they had ceased to be as in awe of him as he preferred. “Lookin’ forward to minglin’ with the natives myself,” he announced lasciviously.

            “No mingling,” Mal snapped. He was leaning against the mast, surveying the sprawling city with distaste. “I hear any more about _mingling_ and you’ll spend your time totin’ silk bonnets and bottles of perfume.”

            “Oh, you’d be _so_ good at that,” Ursuline cooed to Jayne. “Why don’t you come shopping with us?” Mal gritted his teeth, really wanting to forbid the nymphs shopping as well. He didn’t want _anyone_ having a good time here. But even in his foul mood Mal wasn’t _that_ stupid.

            “We’re not spendin’ any more time here than we have to,” he ordered instead. “So get goin’ if you’re goin’.” The nymphs abandoned Jayne mid-grape and trotted down the gangplank that had been set out. “Wash, Kaylee, stay with the ship,” he went on, glancing around at his crew. “Send out some nymphs to get some _real_ supplies. Zoe, Jayne, you come with me.” He looked at the remaining two people, unsure what to do with them. “Uh, what are your plans?”

            “I thought perhaps I could do a little sightseeing,” Book replied smoothly. “There are some lovely temples in the city.”

            “Sure, okay,” Mal agreed, not really seeing the appeal. He turned to Inara. “What about you? You gonna do some shopping, too?”

            She gave him a frosty look he clearly didn’t expect. “No, I thought I would come with you and greet the new member of our family.”

            Mal’s disapproval was obvious. “I don’t think that’s really necessary,” he countered impatiently. A moment ago he’d been stalling with every trick he could think of; now that Inara wanted something, he couldn’t wait to leave. It was that kind of relationship. “We’re going to some kind of tavern or something, you won’t like it,” he claimed. “It’ll be loud. And smell bad.”

            Inara narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine,” she said coolly, and he knew there was a backlash coming. “I’ll go shopping.” And buy something he would hate, no doubt. “And I’m sure I can find a local gentleman to ‘mingle’ with.” Mal opened his mouth to protest. “It’s a new cycle, after all, and _our_ rules haven’t changed.”

            “How come _she_ gets to mingle?” Jayne asked indignantly. Mal didn’t think it wise from a discipline standpoint to mention that he couldn’t seem to stop Inara from doing whatever it was she wanted.

            “Ooh, Captain, speakin’ of _mingling_ …” Kaylee piped up hopefully. “There’s an awful lot of cute sailors around here!”

            “It only takes one,” Mal reminded her sharply, feeling like he was losing control of the situation. The boat was going to be awash in small children if this kept up.

            “Her, too?” Jayne whined.

            “Ladies only,” Mal snapped. Then he glanced back. “Unless you want a cute sailor, then help yourself. Zoe?” he offered.

            “I’m fine, sir,” she assured him crisply.

            “Oh, come on,” Wash encouraged. “Go get knocked up by some cute sailor so we can have a little bow-legged baby.”

            “I’ll think about it,” she allowed.

            “Well, now that everyone’s got their plans made,” Mal prompted. “Let’s find the Oracle and get out of here.”

            Inara swept off with some nymphs, Shepherd Book disappeared benignly into the crowd, and Kaylee leaned over the side of the ship ogling her prospects. Meanwhile, Mal, Zoe, and Jayne suited up with a few extra swords and knives, and even a couple new-fangled projectile weapons. They weren’t very accurate but they made an almighty bang when fired, which was always a plus. Wash watched them with increasing alarm.

            “Where are you guys going again?” he asked. “Are you storming the government palace?”

            “Just want to be prepared,” Mal explained, sliding a knife into his boot. “Looks like a tough town.”

            “We’re going to someplace called the Budding Peach Blossom,” Zoe told him, remarkably straight-faced.

            “Sounds like a brothel to _me_ ,” Jayne commented excitedly. He sobered quickly at Mal’s look. “Er, not that a brothel would require _mingling_ or anything.”

            “Oh, I’ve heard of that place,” Wash claimed. The others waited for the punchline. “Very dangerous. Lots of bald men in orange robes.”

            Mal blinked at him. “It’s a _temple_?”

            Wash shrugged. “It was on Shepherd’s list of places to visit.”

            Mal and Jayne were visibly disappointed, though for different reasons. “Well I don’t know why they’d want a foreign freaky Oracle hangin’ around their meditation garden,” Mal grumbled. He didn’t remove any of his weapons, though. “Come on.”

            The three of them strode down the gangplank to the dock and then to the street. The crowd was mostly Chinese, of course, but here and there a few foreigners wandered around, Arabs or Europeans, mostly—the city was an eastern endpoint for the Silk Road trade and sometimes merchants from the western end like to make sure their goods were received and sold properly. Still, they received their share of curious glances, especially as they left the main thoroughfares and headed deeper into the city, per Jack’s directions. Zoe in particular attracted a lot of attention—a dark-skinned woman walking freely in trousers was an incongruous sight to most of the citizens. Mal thought briefly of asking her to change into something less conspicuous—like a Chinese man—but then he decided it really didn’t bother him that much. Plus, she would be horribly offended at the suggestion, and that could result in violence. He preferred to avoid that among his own crew.

**Author's Note:**

> The Oracle is River, and her brother Simon must accompany her to the Lightfly clan, per tradition. The Oracle and her brother are in some ways more vulnerable, ordinary even, than the others.


End file.
